


Red

by winter_scldier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Depression, Hospitals, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_scldier/pseuds/winter_scldier
Summary: And his hands were slick with blood.





	1. Comatose

His arms were red with blood when I found him. It seemed like every inch of his flesh was sliced, and oozing blood. My shaking hands frantically trying to cover the wounds, as I tried with all my might not to scream. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood, with a knife resting in his limp hand. 

 

Tears rolled down my face as I desperately held his head in my hands, searching for a pulse. The moment I found a sign of life, relief flooded over me, and knocked me over. I shot up from the floor, and ran for the phone. When the ambulance arrived, they looked at me with obvious fear in their eyes. I was soaked with his blood. 

 

A paramedic and an officer slowly came to my side, while another paramedic made their way to the bathroom. The officer had his hand on his gun as he asked me what happened, but all I could do was shake my head. All had gone numb, and I didn't even notice when the officer restrained me so the paramedic could examine me. I didn't feel anything until I saw them roll Steve's bloodied and messily bandaged body out from the bathroom. 

 

"I-I need to follow him," I said weakly. "He tried to kill himself." 

 

No one spoke to me as the paramedic finished, and the officer let me go. They said nothing as the stood up and left, closing the door behind them. My whole body trembled as I turned and looked at the other room. The pristine white tile was now a deep crimson color, and bloodied footprints lead their way towards me. I ran into our bedroom, my eyes wet with tears, when I saw myself in the mirror. I felt my body collapse, my knees too weak to hold me. I tried to push myself into the other bathroom, my hands slick. 

 

I broke down in sobs, my body too weak to move. It wasn't until our neighbor ran in that I realized, 

 

 **I was screaming.**

 

I didn't even fully register she was there until she tried to rest me in her arms in a desperate attempt to console me. 

 

"He tried to leave me...He tried to die." 

 

That was all I could choke out. I felt her rocking me slowly, whispering that it would be alright. She offered to take me to the hospital once I changed, and all I could do was nod. I stumbled up from the floor and into the closet. I pulled on some clean clothes before slowly following her to her car. 

 

When we got there, they told me he was comatose, and they didn't know if he would make it or not. They told me his heart rate was dangerously low, and he could hardly breathe on his own. I saw him lying on the bed, he was hooked up to what looked like dozens of machines. He had lost far to much blood for the average person to come back from, and everyone knew it. 

 

A majority of the hospital staff didn't trust me. They looked at me with a cautious eye when they passed, and security seemed ready to jump me at any moment. When I tried to enter his room, I felt the hand of a security guard firmly grasp my arm, and try to pull me away. 

 

He slammed me into the wall, and I collapsed. My vision swirled, but I saw a doctor and a nurse sprint over to me and try to help me up. The guard started screaming that I was a terrorist, and I deserved to die. 

They kept asking me if I was alright, but I knew they agreed with him deep down. Had I not been as weak as I was, someone might've died.

I shot up in the middle of the night, my hair matted to my forehead in a mix of sweat and tears. My mind was racing, trying to find a reason why Steve would try to end his life, and not talk to me or someone. I had almost given up when I reached for his pillow, and I heard the paper rustle.


	2. The Note

_Buck,_

_I know you'll have a lot of questions, and I'm sorry to say I don't have all the answers. I know your angry, and I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you about all this before it happened.  
I've had urges lately, and I don't know how to explain it. I've felt numb, I've felt anger, and i simply can't recall the last time I felt true joy. _

_Please believe me when I say none of this is your fault. After you came back to me, I was the happiest I've ever been. But, I think all the damage and pain I suppressed over all those years finally caught up to me. I would sit up in the middle of the night, looking at you, wondering if you were actually there or not. The worry would become too much for me, to the point of me breaking down in sobs, trying my hardest not to wake you._

_I'm scared of hurting you. I don't know what my death would do to you, but hopefully it will be better than me stabbing you through the chest to see if you're really the person next to me. I can't apologize enough for what I'm about to do. I know it's wrong to leave you here, but you'll find someone to replace me. I know that things will never be the same, but time will pass. You'll be okay._

_I love you, I hope you know that. I'm doing this to protect you._

_I'm so, so sorry._

_-Steve_  
<><><><><><><><><><><><><>  
By the time I was finished, my body was shaking. Tears were streaming down my face and onto the paper, despite my best efforts to stop. It broke me apart to know he thought of him as anything less of the best man I've ever known. He had been through more than any man should ever have to face, but he put on a strong face. He helped people every single day, and yet, he still saw himself as a burden. 

I wanted to yell at him. I knew I wouldn't be able to live without him. He was my rock, the only thing keeping me from losing my fucking mind. He said I'd find someone else, but there would be no one that could replace him. We'd been through life and death together, and I'd probably never get that again. **I'd never be with the love of my life again.** I'd never find someone like him again.

I sat there, cradling his pillow rocking back and forth. Our neighbor came over once the sun was up, and offered to take me up to the hospital to see him. She told me that if anyone tried to hurt me, she'd protect me. I smiled a little bit at the thought. She was a small, petite woman, who had probably never hurt as much as a fly. But I couldn't stop her. She was one of the other best people in my life.

When we arrived, the doctors and nurses were running every which way, yelling at each other to grab all sorts of different medications. The two of us looked at each other confused, until I saw her look over at Steve's room, and her face dropped.


	3. Code

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is really short. I'm in a really bad writers block.

There were doctors and nurses sprinting all around the room. They had a crash-cart by his side, and with every shock his back would arch, and he'd fall limply back onto the bed. I watched with horror, and collapsed to my knees. I watch them yell for different medications, trying desperately to find one that would work. 

Finally, a doctor grabbed a wide syringe from the cabinet, and inject it directly into Steve's chest. The room seemed to freeze as they all looked at the heart monitor, and it slowly went back to normal rhythm. A wave of relief hit me, and I fell back onto my back. 

"Are you alright James?" Our neighbor asked concerned. All I could do was nod as I shoved myself up. 

The doctor removed the syringe, and stared walking over to us. He asked if I was family, and then he said that he couldn't explain what happened. It took a shot of adrenaline to restart his heart, and that's all he knew. 

It didn't matter to me what had caused it. All I cared about at that time was that he was alive. 

But he was still in a coma. A coma I didn't know if he'd ever wake up from. One of the doctors had suggested giving him no more than a few months, and if he hadn't woken up, I should pull the plug. The thought of me being the one to decide when he died terrified me. Steve didn't deserve that. But he just had to keep fighting. He just had to stay alive for me.


End file.
